Star Crossed Heroes
by DoctorMcCrimmon
Summary: What happens when we die? After the devourer left the darkness… what's left? Owen and Tosh find out after their ill-fated run in with Grey.
1. Chapter 1

Star Crossed Heroes

"It's all right. Really, Tosh. It's all right." Those were the last words he ever would say. And he meant every one of them. He had only one regret, and that was that he hadn't noticed what was right in front of him for so long, not until it was too late.

The world went white, not black like the first time he'd died. This time felt different. It was white, and warm, and had his body actually produced chemicals anymore, he'd have said it was caused by the purge of chemicals flooding his brain to make his death painless. But he didn't feel anything anymore. He didn't feel pain or hunger or even lust. He had wanted to die for real before, shortly after he had come back. But he didn't. And since then, he had found something else to live for. SomeONE else. Just when he wanted to live again, he was about to die. He would have gone out screaming, since he couldn't well go down fighting.

But then he'd heard Tosh's voice. Her pleading for him to stop. Why? 'Because it's breaking my heart.' The sobs in her voice snapped him out of his rage. The standard stages for mourning are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. He skipped past the bargaining and depression, letting the pain in Tosh's voice slap him back to what was happening. She'd blamed herself. That's the last thing he wanted. He wanted her to live on, find someone to make her happy. Maybe name a kid after him or something. But live a long, happy life after he was gone. He couldn't leave her blaming herself, could he?

So he told her it was all right. He told her it wasn't her fault. It wasn't. There was no way it could be. As everything faded, his last thoughts were of her.

"Owen!" Toshiko cried, the screen showing the Turnmill Nuclear Power Station shifting to oblivion. He was gone. She was dying, she could feel the strength melt from her body, the cold of blood loss settling into her. Tears fell in streams, the salty trails cooling on her face as she fought to focus. She had to stay awake, had to tell them about Owen. He couldn't just die in vain. They couldn't just forget about him in there as the radiation faded over the next however many centuries. He saved the city… he was a hero. He didn't deserve to just fade into nothingness.

"Toshiko? Toshiko!" She heard Jack from far away. Then an instant later felt him holding her. She could barely see him through the veil of tears and the white nothingness devouring the edges of her vision. "Gwen! I need help down here!" She just needed to tell them… about Owen. That's the singular thought making her cling to life.

"The nuclear plant at Turnmill. Owen's there." She heard Ianto's voice from… somewhere… she was having too much trouble focusing to know where.

"Sealed in… re-routed the blast…" she explained, with what felt like the very last of her strength. There was so much more she'd have liked to say, but didn't. So much more she wanted to do, but never would. But as she faded away into oblivion, she found she didn't exactly care.

Owen wandered through oblivion for what felt like hours, but very well could have been seconds… time was inconsequential there, after all.

"Owen?" He spun at his name, squinting through the too-bright whiteness around him. It was like a fog all around him. "Owen, is that you?"

Oh, God. Not here. This must be some sort of happy place to protect his mind as his body melts away. She can't really be there. His mind rebelled at the mere idea of her being dead with him. Not his Tosh. "I'm dreaming." He announced, his voice dulled by the emptiness around him.

"No." She answered softly, following his voice. He realised he, too, was moving closer to her voice. "I…" She couldn't bring herself to say it. It was too weird, even for her. "I'm really here. As are you. Probably some polypsychokinetic energy field created by our emotional connectivity and the proximity of our times of death." There, she said it. She's dead, too. It felt… strange. Coming to terms with it would probably be pretty tough. At least she had plenty of time.

"No." Owen was within sight of her now. She was wearing what he had last seen her in, but with a large, bloody tatter in the lower abdomen of her shirt. "Nonononononono." He chanted until he reached her. His medical training kicked in, and he lifted the hem of her shirt to examine the wound. The clinical part of his brain noted that it was a gunshot wound, as even in this noncorporeal form his vision swam with tears. "When?" He managed to choke out, pulling her into a tight hug. Logically, he knew it had to have been soon after his own demise. But the hopeful part of him said that it wasn't unusual to wear the same outfit on other days. Hopefully, years down the line.

Her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as though if she let go, he'd vanish. "Grey shot me before I walked you through the meltdown procedure. I… it wasn't my arm that I was needing the painkillers for." She confessed, head against his shoulder, just taking in the comfort of his embrace. She thought she'd never see him again. "I managed to hold out long enough to tell the team what happened to you." She explained, voice soft and tear filled. "I thought I'd never get to see you again." Her tears soaked Owen's shirt, and he felt them. Fuck. How could he feel anything? He's dead. Ghosts don't cry, and they sure as shit don't feel tears soaking their shirts. Where the hell were they?

No, not hell. It couldn't be. Tosh didn't deserve hell. Owen, sure. He was an arse, all the shit he did, that he put others through. Sure, he could believe he deserved hell. But not Tosh. Never. She was the closest thing to an angel anyone could come. He only hated himself for not realising it sooner. "Hey…" he pulled back and lifted her face to meet his eyes. "Kinda silly to cry over me when you're in the same boat." He felt his heart lurch at the sight of her tears. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips. She certainly felt tangible enough. She was so warm, so… alive.

Tosh's eyes drifted closed almost melting into the kiss. She had dreamed of that moment for years. It was just a shame they had to die to get it. Not that it in any way diminished the importance of the moment. She loved him, and was glad that if she had to die, at least he was there with her. Eternity with him seemed like a pretty nice deal, actually. "Thank you." She whispered, nuzzling his cheek. "But at least we got to the chance… in the end, anyway." If this was what forever was going to be like, she had no complaints.


	2. I Haven't the Foggiest…

—•—

He had no idea how long they were there. Days? Weeks? Centuries? Time was uncountable in a place where there was no day or night, and where one didn't sleep or eat. Both worried things between them might get awkward, what with the change in their relationship and the being dead and all. But it didn't.

They stood in the mist together, embracing for what seemed like eternity and a second all rolled into one. Neither spoke for a long time, just comforted by each other's presence.

Eventually, Tosh took a step back, looking down at her bloodied shirt. "Not exactly the dressiest wardrobe choice for our first date." She joked, her voice having calmed from her prior emotion; she even managed a slight (if a bit sardonic) laugh.

Owen shook his head with a laugh. "You'd look beautiful in anything." He confessed, meaning it. For years, he forced himself not to see her like that, like a woman. But she was. And a gorgeous one at that. With a sly grin, he added in his usual Owen style. "But if you're that worried about it, you can always take it off."

This time her laugh was more genuine, and she gave his shoulder a light smack. "Owen!" She protested, though she clearly wasn't as offended as she played. "I don't have anything else to wear." She added lamely, already knowing what he would likely say. And after watching him use his lines on everyone else, she felt elated to hear them used on her. Like she was finally worthy of them.

"You could use mine." He offered, trying to be a respectful gentleman. Tosh deserved more than some chat up line. At the look of surprise his words gave her, he shrugged. "Or you could just take it off. Definitely wouldn't mind that."

She smiled. That was the Owen Harper she knew and loved. Always up to lightening the mood with a bit of lewd humour. "And where would I put it? It'd get lost in the fog if I just put it down." Her brow furrowed in thought. "Is there even ground under there?" She questioned, her scientific mind cutting past the haze of death and euphoria of Owen's affection. "Are we stuck standing forever?" That was a strange but oddly obvious question.

She was adorable the way her face scrunched up in thought. "Well, let's see then, shall we?" He answered simply, crouching and waving at the mist that rose halfway to their knees. Every time he did, the mist swirled, but didn't dissipate. Frowning, he reached lower, pressing as low as he could into the cloud of smoke. "There's nothing there. Just… just a pocket of air or something. We're… nowhere. What the fuck?" Rising to his feet, he looked down to the cloud and jumped lightly, testing it. It bounced but didn't give way. "No fucking way I made it to heaven." At Tosh's amused disbelief, he corrected himself. "That is if heaven existed."

Tosh got to her knees to look into the fog. It smelled like fog should. That humid smell that clings to the air on a foggy day. Which smelled quite a bit like a humidifier. It smelled of clean, damp air. Which it shouldn't. With so much moisture in the air it should smell of Petrichor, wet earth. Or whatever Planet they were on now. She lay flat, buried in the cloud. Her face pressed down as far as she could into the cloud. All she saw was more mist, nothing beneath it, just fog. And while it didn't exactly give way, it didn't press into her. It was like they were riding a current of air. But she didn't even feel that. No wind, no ground… as if they actually were walking on a cloud. Like some silly cartoon representation of heaven.

"Tosh?" Owen's voice drifted through the fog, sounding confused and a bit worried. "You didn't fall through, did you?" The way the ground felt under her, she understood the concern.

By way of reply, she pushed herself up, sitting on her legs in the vast nothingness around them, the fog covered the blood on her shirt, hiding everything below her chest from view. "If this IS heaven…" As Owen opened his mouth to comment, so she quickly added, "and only IF.… then where is everybody else? Isn't there supposed to be some big pearly gates or something equally as cliche?" Honestly, she was just glad they didn't seem to be falling to their doom… or second doom? Whatever.

"Maybe we need to walk there?" He offered, still just as confused by everything as she was. Besides, Tosh was the genius; if she didn't know, what chance would he have? "Or… maybe this is limbo or something. We're still waiting for judgement or whatever." He really hoped not. If it was limbo, then come judgement they'd be separated. Tosh was undoubtedly going to heaven. And Owen? Owen had no doubt in his mind where he'd be destined to go. And that terrified him. Not the hell part. No, he was pretty much okay with that. It was losing his best friend, his Tosh all over again that scared him.

His emotions passed plainly across his face- she could always read him so easily- and she reached up, pulling him to his knees beside her. "If that's the case…" she leaned in and kissed his cheek gently, her arms wrapping around him again. "Then we just won't go. We'll stay here, together. If you're not going with me, I don't want to go." Her voice was soft, but her words were firm, confident; a trait she rarely showed to anyone. He held her tightly, just sitting with her in the fog, arms entwined as if they were one. 'Soulmates'… maybe… Tosh often felt that's what they were, even back when they were alive. Like their meeting and becoming friends was almost a preset moment in time… one of those unchangeable moments that was meant to be.

This time, Tosh initiated the kiss, putting all her love and… faith, for want of a better word… into it. It started soft, sweet, but it soon deepened, spurred by the need to prove each other real in a world too unreal for even them to believe. "Tosh…" Owen's words escaped their locked lips, breathy and heavy. He had to pull back a moment to think through the hungry haze in his mind. "If you get into heaven… if it's even real… you go, with or without me, you go. You deserve it. More than anyone I can think of." He meant every word. He could handle hell, he could handle oblivion. But only if he knew she'd be safe and happy. If anyone deserved heaven, his Tosh did.

"No. We'll stay together. Here or hell or heaven or whatever and wherever we end up… I'm not giving you up again." Her hands cupped his cheek as she looked him directly in the eye before kissing him again. She meant it. She would gladly give up heaven if it meant she'd get to stay with him forever. It wouldn't be paradise without him. She poured her love for him into the kiss.

He couldn't believe he'd wasted so much time keeping her so close yet so far. She deserved so much better than him. She deserved so much more than any of what she had been through. Any of what he put her through. "I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice thick with guilt. It wasn't like the cold, heartless Owen Harper to feel guilty. But with how he'd treated her for YEARS… his guilt overwhelmed him.

It was her turn to cheer him up. "Owen… there's nothing to apologise for." She kissed his cheeks, then his forehead lovingly. "You're my best friend, and I've loved you for a long time. I wouldn't trade a second of it, even just being friends, for anything." She gave him a reassuring smile, returning her lips to his. They tasted salty with his own tears, but he didn't mind. Her kiss warmed his heart, even if his body didn't actually produce oxytocin anymore, and his heart didn't beat anymore…

He wondered what else he was able to do again. What else his body could do, even without actually having a body… maybe they were in heaven after all. Not that he deserved it. But he was happy to have it. Whatever 'it' was. He could feel. He'd spent the last few months of his undeath, relife? The time between deaths… he spent so long not able to feel anything. No warmth, no softness, nothing. But now… now he felt everything. The moisture of the mist, the softness of Toshiko's hands on his face, the silkiness of her hair under his fingers… he felt everything and it was amazing.

"I can't believe we wasted so long." He murmured when their lips finally parted. He wanted to make up for lost time, he wanted burn every inch of her to memory, in case they did end up parted during judgment. And part of him wanted to hurry, in case they lost each other; but the other part knew his Tosh deserved more than a simple shag in some nondescript place. So he took it slowly, gently. He treated her like the princess she was to him. There, in the abstract haze of nowhere and no when, he lay her amid the fog and gently showed her the love she deserved. It was gentle, slow, and loving, treating her with the love and respect he'd not shown anyone since Katie, his fiancée before he joined Torchwood. The facade of the heartless arse melted alway as he joined with her, a feeling he never thought he'd be able to have again.


End file.
